a day in the life...

a pedestrian might only see an ordinary village

not even worth the time it'd take to pillage

but gaze closer and you'll see the opposite of strife

let me take you on a tour of my daily life

slipping out of my meth induced dream

almost time for school, it would seem

tintinnabulation, the siren did just ring

learners congregate in queues, mid-sing

trekking to school through deep sand and all

luckily, that learner did not just see me fall

fraternizing with my colleagues, my friends

while a learner approaches me with a problem to mend

all the while, village dogs peruse the school in search of food

except for kiara, the one who knows better than to be rude

she's made herself part of our school community

well, other than the time dedicated to drinking tea

then i reach my homeroom class, which is smothered in glacier blue

signs plastered: 'oh the places you'll go' and 'the things you'll do'

you can always count on one thing each morning

albin and oliver will reach school just after that bell does ring

a quick announcement and a birthday song

words of encouragement to inspire them for the whole day long

then off to their classes, my 9B learners pour out

individual greetings of 'morning sir' overcoming loud learner shouts

three classes of english, each and every day

catching up on my grammar so i know what to say

correcting 'me I' and writing formal letters

delving into Holes and the life of the Potters

memorable moments teaching these older kids of mine

(well, once they greet me and tell me they're fine…)

some are almost adults with kids of their own

and yet their jaws still drop when I tell them I've flown

so many times grammar lessons become debates

on female rights, the cold war--learners become irate

but its getting them excited and passionate about the world

and anticipating the results that are sure to be unfurled

you can always count on mashika to make a controversial statement

while khashera shies in the back insanely self-confident

then prisca provides the exact answer im looking for, no doubt

mangundu wanting one on one attention, if not, he'll pout

titus reads in his American accent, perhaps to mock

while shambi looks to his hand as if it were a clock

you can barely hear masoya's voice but his swag that matters

and if its in english, I can tolerate the endless chatter

but lest we not forget my mathematics classes, there are two

forty learners in each, rarely described as too few

the mission is to make math the cool thing to do

but coming from an american, its an easy thing to cue

the 9B's return to their home of glacier blue

welcome back i proclaim, 'I missed you too'

knowing these kids and how to make them chuckle

a corny joke is all it takes--like pretending to undo my buckle

checking homework and kids pleading for marks

you'd think i were a fish swimming among sharks

on that occasion that that homework is incomplete

a fat red zero and a commotion of shrieks, they'll meet

motivating learners to tackle algebra and angles galore

bruising competitions for sweets makes math part of their core

who would have thought id love teaching math?

fellow rat packers, ill be awaiting your wrath

posing a question, and hands reach high

moses is never wrong, i wouldn't be surprised if this boy can fly

my namesake and john, the youngest in the class

reminding them of their smarts always leads to their sass

max and limbu forgetting im not their friend

while muremi chills at his desk not realizing the lesson did end

in case you didnt hear the ring of the bell

school day is over, your body's in a swell

navigating past children, is that a parade?

nah, merely just a lunch rush that some would call a raid

stepping around goat droppings to reach my abode 

sometimes i go days without even seeing a road

this school sometimes seems like its own small world

couldn't imagine it any better even if it were self-swirled 

finally a chance to shower (splash my body with cold water)

peaking out my window, a goat was slaughtered

joseph and I indulge in our traditional cuisine

macaroni and mayo--and yet I've managed to stay lean

attempts at a nap often become moot

knocks at a door, perhaps Kupi bringing medicinal root

then a learner asking for a key to a room

one time, they even tripped over my broom!

but 'just like that', its time for afternoon study

all the kids return to school, somehow muddy

perhaps it was the rain storm that drenched us all

avoiding lightening a must, otherwise you'd die (and fall)

during this time, working with my kids one on one

therefore it becomes a bit more fun

no longer dressed in a tie, but my chelsea shirt

girls asking for extra help (or perhaps just to flirt)

then I procure T-Pain, the president of GLOW club

meet with the members, yes some kids got the snub

dramas, dances, and the infamous food competition

sporting their shirts to show their pride for our mission

becoming leaders while respecting them and you

candid talks with these kids is what we do

challenging norms when it comes to dates

a standing ovation for my speech on respecting your mate

after, my laptop comes out and chaos ensues

kids encircling my body, most are not wearing shoes

shouts of impressed kids with each letter I type

sadly, my typing skills are not worth the hype

then my head looks away and up towards the sky

puffy clouds that gushing red, thus a pleasureful sigh

before i know it, anna and mufenda procure me

head out the door that cant lock, no need for a key

we trapeze past learners with heads in books

past the tent for our bushmen (theres not even a nook)

we reach the ends of the school and the start of the gravel road

we peruse the streets, the four of us talking in code

trucks whiz by originating in zambia or the DRC

while were on our way to Timanyambi

the jukebox spits out the latest nam tune

sausage and beers under our only light, the moon

sharing stories from their homes and mine

ignoring the sight of racing baby swine

divulging a plan to move to america in a year

and yet I'm merely left with a sneer

my American girl, she does come by

I chase after her and Sabina's mid-cry

crocs in the river, pool at the sheebeen

even in forbidden forest, were always seeen

and its all cemented: ndiyona is home

which place wouldn't be when, with Kasiku, I get to roam?

but then, as most do, the day does end

in bed avoiding insects (I've learned to mend)

and finally a chance to think

soon this will end, in an eye's blink

cannot even imagine how much of this I'll miss

the life of absolute pure bliss.